The Flayer
by BearBoxer
Summary: Decided to do a little experimental writing after reading the siege of castellax. Hope you enjoy!


The assault boat jerked; its metal flesh creasing, being stripped by the howling sand storm which had been aroused by the planet; the polluted sand of the storm caressing the metal of the ship in a blaze of shard kisses. The assault boat moaned with disapproval; the silver paint of the ship having been peeled away by the clawing of the blaze of the storm. Sulfuric pits bubbled and boiled at the belly of the assault boat, the ships underbelly being scorched. The ship was holding; if not barely, it seemed insidious, if not planned that the master of this planet would call for his loyal sons to do the dark deed.

Four raptors stood inside of the assault boat; the terrified miltia that accompanied them daring not to walk near them; they had been raised in mines, slums and refineries, the tales of the space marines were that of legend, many had disregarded the super-humans as myth. The ship lurched and turned; the volatile planets atmosphere was making the ship uneasy; it was a bad omen, even the raptors of the Steel Daemons retinue felt uneasy from the very air they breathed. The area they were approaching had a sense of dread about it; an aura of insidious intent, and to all extensive purposes; that is that they intended.

One of the raptors; huge and broad shouldered, a beast of a creature, even by Astartes standards looked at the militia lurking in the corner of the assault boat; he grimaced as he looked at them, he thought nothing of the embryo grown slaves - they were flesh, expendable and made for a purpose that benefited his legion. Yet even as he stared at them, he was filled with a unquenchable rage; how had the false corpse Emperor thought of them as the ruler of him? How had something so weak, so brittle, so easy to flay could be his master? The huge Astartes suddenly jerked his arm to his side; it colliding with the side of a poor militiaman who had wondered too close to him; his skull breaking and his brain being pulverized by the Astartes huge arm.

His brothers turned to him; the screaming metal faces of the marines looked at the now dead flesh; the grim malice that was embedded into the masks they wore seemed amplified as they began to cackle at the mutilated body of the militiaman. The massive Astartes turned his gaze to the window of the assault boat; his helmets red eyes reflecting off the window; the brown ice that was trying to hide the polluted landscape from his gaze. He ran his clawed hand down the glass, half tempted to shatter the glass and watch the sulfuric acid fill the lungs of the flesh that resided inside the ship.

The ice could not hide the colossal monument of the power of his master from him; millions of tonnes of ferrocrite, spanning miles high could be seen on the horizon; massive Icarus gun emplacements turning their murderous gaze to the ship approaching the tower.

" Approaching boat, state your business or be fired upon " A voice emerged from the vox in the drivers cockpit.

One of the raptors moved into the , pushing the pilot aside, before clasping onto the vox rod; his massive hand making the device seem like a Imperial Officers itho stick. The glaring expression that was befixed to his mask stared at the rod for a few seconds, before the massive armoured thumb pressed down on the activation stud implaced on the belly of the rod.

" We are here on the orders of the Steel Daemon, flesh. " Barked the raptor, fury filling his chest.  
" We are Space marines, fire upon us and feel the full extent of our carnage. " Growled the largest Astartes.

The vox was utterly quiet for a moment, before the Icarus gun emplacements returned to their regular positions; various lights beginning to be conjured from the entity of the tower. The tower seemed to scream in fury as the assault boat neared it; the screeching of the giant metal door that would allow them access into the daunting spire. The assault boat seemed to be swallowed by the massive tower. The boat moved inside of the towers " throat ", before ascending upwards, towards the landing pad.

The massive boat erected four small legs from its scarred underbelly; the legs were worn and weathered, a testament to the resilience and age of the boat that the Space Marines inhabited. The boats side groaned as a docking bay door fell to the rockcrete flooring of the roof; the ceramite of the ship scraping along the roof of the ship. The ship was silence for a few moments, the ship seeming like a cave which inhabited monsters from the darkest imagination of those on the roof.

The Space Marines emerged from the ship, their heavy demenour and body mass making the docking bay bridge groan with disapproval as the marines walked on it; and soon they were gathered, their weapons ever anxious to taste the flesh of a militiaman foolish enough to " offend " them. A heavy set man with graying hair walked to the marines, in his hand was a rune rod of state; it meant little to the raptors, but much more the militiamen. The officer seemed to sweat, and walked to the marines, before bowing his head.

" My Lords. I am General Idhan Ferothe " Said the officer, his voice seeming nervous.  
" I care little for your rank, Idhan. You know why we are here. " Said the largest Marine, his voice harsh.  
" Yes I do my lord, you are here to inspec- "  
" We are here to release and retrieve the prisoner, Idhan. " Said the huge Marine, cutting the general off.

The general had an expression of great terror on his face; surely they had not come to take the beast away? to doom his life and the lives of his men? With shaking hand and boot, he put his hand to the activation rune of his rod, after a few moments of contemplation, he spoke into the rod, his voice shaky, like his body.

" G-Get ready to release prisoner 01A " Stuttered the general, much to the raptors twisted delight.

In the twisted confines of the towers intestines; the blood stained hallway leading to a large, piston driven fifty tonne door could be seen; a retinue of sixty militiamen at the walls, saluting at the officer who heard the orders from Idhan. The officer looked at the men in the corridor; surely this prisoner could not withstand the sustained fire of a volley of las? Were the rumors true? Did the holograms and demonstrations simply show exaggerated brutality?

He gulped, half tempted to pray to the Corpse Emperor right now and then. Three militiamen walked down the corridor, each man holding a massive, rune encrusted key in both their hands. The cooper key was mainly for decorations sake, but the runes were not for cosmetics; whatever was behind the door had required a Daemon ward to keep it inside and from breaking the wall. The officer tried to reassure himself; the beast was pinned down with sixty tonnes of rockcrete, it would be slow.

The men inserted the keys into the door, and slowly circle that encased a Mk3 iron helm with horns began to spin; steam and compressed air being belched forth from the door as the pistons inside of the door began to turn, turning in the opposite direction they had been sealed over two hundred years ago. Like a metal flower the door slid open.

The prisoner had broken free of its bonds.  
It was free.

The officer screamed, as did his men.


End file.
